WaitingOr Lack Thereof
by boot-stealer
Summary: OneShot. Rated M. Governor Swann is in Kingston for business and won't return until tomorrow. Affianced William Turner and Elizabeth Swann take the day off in celebration.


_**Waiting…Or Lack Thereof**_

**Author: boot-stealer**

**Summary: **Rated M. The governor is in Kingston on business...what will happen when the affianced William and Elizabeth take the day off?

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean. I do not own William Turner or Elizabeth Swann. But I do own this plot, and I own the stupid patron. And I own this laptop, so help me Jesus Christo. Which means nothing. But read the story.

* * *

The carriage seemed to be moving particularly slow this morning, Elizabeth Swann thought to herself as she reached out to push the curtain draped over the window aside. Quite suddenly, she recognized a brown vest and faded white tunic out of the corner of her eye. Turning, she saw her fiancé kneeling down before a small boy, a coin in his hand. 

"Stop the carriage!" She called up to the driver. Startled, he did so.

At her outburst, the young man and small boy looked up as well, noticing the carriage slow to a halt. He knew that carriage. With an amused smile, he stood, handing the boy the coin, patting his head, and hurrying to the door of the small vehicle.

As he leaned against the window, he smiled at the young woman inside, who returned the affection with a wide grin. "Will! It's Friday, your busiest day! What are you doing out of your smithy?" She asked, leaning forward to kiss his forehead softly.

"I'm taking the day off to enjoy life. And what are you doing outside of your father's watch?"

Raising an eyebrow, she bit her lip. "I was off to the smithy to persuade you to take the day off and enjoy life."

"Where is your father?" He asked.

"On some business."

"Yes, but where?" He whispered, leaning closer, his head almost completely inside the carriage.

"Kingston."

His heart beat faster. This meant the governor would return the next day. As long as Elizabeth was free the rest of the day, the help would cover for them. They had many times before.

"Have Georgie take you to the smithy. I will be there in a few minutes."

Elizabeth giggled mischievously, then proceeded to kiss her fiancé on the lips. Will winked to Georgie, who saluted with a grin and urged the horses onward.

Standing in the dust from the carriage, the young blacksmith cleared his throat and turned back to the boy. "Lucas, use that coin wisely. It's a lucky coin, after all."

"Yessir!"

The small boy ran off, the coin clutched tightly in his palm. Turning in the direction of his smithy, William Turner walked quickly after the carriage.

When he arrived, the carriage was nowhere in sight, but the door to his shop was open slightly, as if someone had rushed inside and forgotten to latch it properly. Pulling the door open, he stepped inside, shut it behind him, and hurried down the steps.

In only moments, arms enveloped him from behind. He laughed, turning and grabbing her, his lips pressed against hers.

It had been a year since their first kiss on the battlements, a year since they had heard from Jack Sparrow, and a year since their affections for each other were made known amongst the public.

Pulling away, Elizabeth giggled. "Are you sure your customers shan't come today?"

"I'm closed," he breathed, his hand combing through her long, loose locks of hair.

"Do _they_ know that?" She asked, grinning smugly.

"They will," he replied, going to the desk and pulling some parchment from it. Quickly dipping his quill in ink, Will wrote a quick note to his customers. He turned it around and showed it to Elizabeth. "How is this?"

She read it aloud: "To Turner Blacksmithing patrons—I regret to inform you I have unfinished business off the island and will reopen shop no sooner than tomorrow morning. I apologize for any inconvenience. William J. Turner." She shrugged. "I like it."

"Good."

Grabbing a nail, he hurried out to the door and peaked to see if anyone was watching. Seeing that the coast was clear, he pushed the nail through the parchment and into the door, before ducking back inside.

As soon as the door slammed shut, the Caribbean breeze picked up and the nail wobbled in its place against the wood. A quiet clinking noise was heard as it fell from the door and hit the stone beneath it, the parchment being tossed in the air, away from its place on the door.

Unaware of this development, William continued with developments of his own.

He latched his lips onto her neck, his capable hands running down her sides. As he moved them up to just beneath her armpits, he felt the softness of her breasts against his thumbs. He pulled his lips from hers gently, his eyes flashing.

With a wicked smile, she affirmed his suspicions. She had dressed light for her journey to his smithy. She obviously had the same plans he had. And this, above all else, was what caused him to kiss her again.

His lips were less desperate, softer, more sensual now that he knew they had time, now that he knew she wanted the same as he. He felt her tongue touch his upper lip. Opening his mouth against hers, he put his hand against her neck, pulling her closer.

Her arms wound up around his neck. Long, knowing fingers pulled at the cloth holding his dark locks from his face. Those same dark locks flopped down to surround them.

Elizabeth moved her hand down, pulling at the buttons on his vest. She undid the first one, then moved down to the second one, then the last one. Eagerly, she pulled her lips away, breathing hard, pushing the vest off his arms. He let go of her and allowed the garment to drop behind him.

His hand swept down to catch it midair as she jumped into his arms, attacking his lips with fervor. He lost his footing and hit the door roughly. He pulled away, wincing as he tried to push her gently off. "Elizabeth, wait!"

"What?" She breathed, her fingers undoing his shirt.

He grabbed her hands and held them, looking straight into her hazed eyes. "Let's go to my room."

"No."

"No?" He asked, tilting his head.

Elizabeth blushed slightly, diverting her eyes as she bit her lip. "That is where we have been every time, Will. Why can't we just stay out here?"

"It isn't safe, Elizabeth. We could be caught. I would be killed. Literally." His eyes were wide at her suggestion, and while his head told him this was a ridiculous idea, his body disagreed completely. This would be a new experience. This might introduce another reason for Elizabeth to come to his smithy when her father left her alone long enough.

"We won't be caught." She was so sure. Could it be a possibility that they wouldn't get caught? If he could only be sure, he would be all for the idea. If not his bed, he had no idea where they would go. But as they had in the past, they could let their passions lead them where they might.

He _did_ leave his patrons the note. Surely they would see it.

Getting out from under Elizabeth, Will stood, ignoring the slight pain on the back of his head from hitting the door when she jumped on him. He reached down and helped her to stand.

"Well?" She whispered. Her eyes were begging with him. He only smiled with a slight shake of his head. She always won with those light brown eyes pleading up at him.

She knew her answer.

She watched as he hurried to the window and shut it securely. The forge was not on, keeping the heat outside. As long as no one came to the door, they would be safe in their private acts if they kept it within the smithy.

Will walked back to Elizabeth and took her hand, pulling her back into his room. Her brow furrowed. Why was he taking her into his room when they agreed on the smithy? She must have misread him.

Dropping her eyes to the wooden floor beneath her feet, she bit her lip. Oh well. It would still be enjoyable, as it always was. Books and advice from older maids had not prepared her for love making as she had hoped they would. In fact, the first time she had sex with Will, she was in pain for a good duration of it. It wasn't until long into their session that she began to feel what the maids had spoken about. And not until the second time a few weeks later did she feel what they neglected to mention. An explosion deep within her of absolute pleasure.

And ever since then, he never failed her.

She hurried to grab his thin tunic and pull it from his trousers. She skillfully unbuttoned it and pushed it from his shoulders as well. She grabbed both the shirt and vest from him and threw them on the bed. Her hands quickly made work of his belt buckle. Without pulling the belt from the loops of his waistband, she unbuttoned the trousers and pushed them down.

Completely bare from his mid calves up, ignoring the fact that he still had his stockings and shoes on, as well as his trousers around his ankles, William Turner pulled at the strings on the back of Elizabeth's dress.

Meanwhile, as his hands tugged at the laces, Elizabeth dropped her hands to the strong muscles of his outer thighs. She squeezed, feeling the twitch of the muscle and hearing a low growl from his throat.

Deciding that this was already a new experience for them, the mischievous part of Elizabeth's brain was triggered, and her hand rounded to his front, lightly brushing against his now erect member.

His mouth opened wide and his eyes bugged as he stumbled backwards, landing on his behind. "What are you doing?" He asked, his throat clenched tightly.

She lost a small amount of her boldness at his reaction, but continued to undress herself. She stood only in her light shift, looking down at him. Seeing him sitting there, his torso glistening in the soft slit of light sneaking through the shut window in his room, his leg muscles tense, his dark brown eyes wide and passionate, his hair ruffled and messy, she suddenly felt the boldness return.

In the long run, she figured he wouldn't mind too much if she took him here.

So she quickly got on her knees above him, her hands eagerly pulling her shift up to her stomach as she straddled him, her knees pressing tightly against his hips. She dropped the shift around their bodies and lowered herself. She was close to almost sheathing him inside of her when he quickly flipped them over. He struggled to sit up and move backwards, away from her.

Pulling her shift back down to cover herself, she sat up. "Why are you so timid?" She asked.

He shook his head. "Since when did you get so…"

"So, what?"

"…bold?"

She blushed slightly. "I don't know, Will. Is it such a problem?" She asked.

He pushed himself to his feet, the trousers still at his ankles, shoes and stockings still on his feet. He stood tall and looked down at her, just as she had moments before. "No," he whispered, shaking his head. "It's not a problem at all."

She grinned up at him and reached up, curling her finger for him to come down to her. Shaking his head, he smirked and pulled her to her feet before him. She narrowed her eyes in question, but found his hands gripping the sides of her shift. Her shift rose up her smooth calves, then passed her knees, and finally her thighs were subjected to the warm air of his bedroom. Her shift was bundled in his tight fists, just above her waist. Will pulled her hips against his, watching as her eyelids fluttered and she bit her lip.

Elizabeth raised her arms and set her hands to his strong shoulders, pushing him backwards until his knees collapsed and he sat on the bed. His eyes looked up at her in wonder as she climbed onto the bed over him and bent her knees on either side of his hips.

Taking a deep breath, she lowered herself onto him. As she felt him fill her, she allowed herself to relax. His hips thrust up once and she whimpered, letting her breath out as she felt him reach his limit.

As she pressed down on his shoulders and pushed her knees against his hips, she lifted herself, letting out a low moan. She was pleasantly surprised by the ignition of wondrous feelings at this new position. He sat beneath her, his face pressed against the skin of her collar bone, his hands clutching her shift tightly against her waist.

As she lowered herself on him again, he let out a small vocal gasp, opening his mouth against her skin, his lips sliding up to her neck as she moved her body down. His fist opened in his intense pleasure and her shift fell down. His hands grappled to feel her thighs, squeezing them underneath the fabric of the shift.

She lowered her face to his and kissed his lips languidly, her tongue running along his lips. He thrust his own tongue out to meet hers and she grinned wildly, feeling him move his hips against hers. Will pulled his lips from hers slowly, but found his lower lip caught gently between her teeth before she let go.

He opened his eyes and glared playfully at her as she giggled.

Her lips moved up beside his ear as she whispered his name, her voice catching as she pressed her hips against him with increased vigor. Will felt his abdomen ache as she gripped his shoulders particularly hard, her movements stronger. He doubted he could sit up much longer.

"Elizabeth…" he muttered against her cheek.

"Hm…"

"Elizabeth…wait…"

He felt her pull back as her eyes snapped open and she looked at him. She breathed erratically as she sat poised against him. He reached out and grabbed his bed post, which was within an arm's reach.

She immediately understood his meaning and smirked. He eased her off of him. She let out a small cry of reluctance as she dropped her feet to the ground and let go of his shoulders. Her insides were squirming and her legs wouldn't support her, so she sat on his bed beside him quickly.

She lay down on the bed, her body perpendicular to the length of the mattress. Will moved to lie on top of her, but stopped suddenly.

"What?" She breathed.

He pulled her to a sitting position. Reaching around her again, he untied the strings with a calmness that disputed the raging fire he held inside. His lower half throbbed painfully, but he wanted to feel her soft body against his. All of it.

When he pulled the shift from her, he draped it over the end of the bed, then knelt down to rid himself of his shoes, stockings, and finally trousers, standing completely bare above her.

Elizabeth smiled, love shining in her eyes, lust evident in her actions. She lay back down and waited for him, staring up at him. When he just stared back, she sat up again. "William Turner, what are you waiting for?" She ached terribly for him.

He reached down and pulled her up from the bed. She opened her mouth to ask him what he was up to, but found his lips smashed against hers. Before she knew it, he had her turned around and he was walking her towards the door of his bedroom.

She pulled her lips away a few moments later and found herself standing completely naked in the smithy, Will's hands splayed on the small of her back. His eyes sparkled as he grinned at her. "Elizabeth…I hope you appreciate this."

"Appreciate wha—oh!" He lifted her in his arms and held her, his strong arms wrapped securely around her knees and torso. "Will! What are you doing?!" She asked with a quiet squeal, her arms wrapping themselves around his neck and clinging.

He didn't answer, his eyes flitting around the smithy, until finally he looked up. He fleetingly remembered dueling with Captain Jack Sparrow in those rafters. That is, before the man cheated.

He followed a particular rafter until it disappeared above the niche where hay was stored. Exactly how big was that, anyway? It was directly above his room. Which meant there was at least ten to fifteen feet of room. He had gone up there frequently to retrieve hay. It held him securely enough.

There was only one bale of hay there now, he knew.

And he made up his mind. Setting her back down on her feet, he intrigued her even further by disappearing into his room and reappearing with the blanket from his bed. He passed her, leaving her still aching for him. It had been over two minutes since they were joined and neither of them exactly finished. What the devil was he thinking?

She was only human.

"Will!"

He climbed up the wooden ladder, up into the niche, and disappeared from view once more. "Will! What the devil are you doing?!" She whispered savagely. "Get down from there!"

His head popped over the side with a wide, cheeky grin. "Come up here, Elizabeth."

"What?! No!"

He shrugged. "Alright then…I suppose my bed will be fine then—"

"Wait!" That was something she didn't want. As lovely as Will was in bed, she wondered if this could possibly get better. So she hurried to the ladder and climbed up to join her fiancé.

He was poised on the other side of the blanket, which he spread smoothly over the dingy wood and hay. Patting the blanket in front of him, his eyes flashed darkly and she succumbed to her passions.

Shaking her head with a giggle, she lay on her back on the blanket. He knelt over her and set his hands to the insides of her thighs, pushing her legs apart. She sighed as she felt his strong abdomen fold over her torso, their skin molding together as one. Reaching up, she smoothed his hair back from his face with one hand and pulled him into a kiss by his neck with the other. She felt him push into her again, but this time it felt different.

When she opened her eyes and peaked down, she saw Will's hand moving her left leg to bend at the knee. With every thrust, she felt the heel of her left foot leave the blanket and drop down again.

She threw her head back with a gasp, a smile edging onto her lips. Her hand rounded to the back of his head and squeezed, gripping a fist full of his hair and tugging. He let out another audible gasp and strangled cry, his head being pulled back by her action and his eyes opening wide.

With her eyes open, she watched him, and of her own volition, she bent her right leg to mimic her left. Will's hand moved from her hip to slam down beside her head, bracing himself as he moved his hips in quicker thrusts against her. She cried out at his change of pace and tugged at his hair again. Hearing him growl, she let out a breathy laugh and dropped her other hand to the small of his back where she squeezed him tightly.

She called out his name as he dropped his face to her neck and bit her tender skin lightly. The sound of his name on her lips spurred him further and he moved his other hand between the small of her back the blanket. Lifting her hips with that hand and bracing himself with the other, he lifted his torso off of hers and clenched his jaw.

As he raised himself to a forty-five degree angle above her body, Elizabeth felt an explosion of stars shoot across her vision. She dropped her hands to her sides and clutched the blanket between her fists. Each of his powerful thrusts sent her into oblivion, a whimper stealing itself from her red, pouted lips every single time.

"Will!" She called as she felt her center tighten in unbearable pleasure. She called his name again as he pounded into her with more power and with a speed she thought impossible. His breathing was erratic and he constantly elicited small, deep whimpers.

Once again, Elizabeth opened her eyes to stare at him. He was obviously experiencing the same feelings she was by the conflicting looks flitting across his face. He shut his eyes tightly, then opened them again to try and focus on her face, but found this a daunting task, indeed.

His arm gave out and he was forced to lie down against her body again.

Not five minutes after resuming their original position, Elizabeth whispered a ragged encouragement in his ear. She was incredibly close to her climax. It was building inside of her like a forty foot wave, and finally it crashed down upon her.

She cried out loudly, her voice echoing in the hay loft. Her body shivered momentarily, but she knew it was far from over. While she had reached her climax, Will had yet to find his release. If she had the ability to think properly after such a strong climax, she would remember the last few times she and Will had sex. He had lasted much longer than she.

He plunged into her softness quicker now, deeper. She knew he was worried he may injure her if he pushed her passed her limit, and he _had_ to be aware of the fact that she had already climaxed. So he was trying to finish quicker, spare her of any pain.

She knew him well.

Elizabeth could feel the pleasure building inside of her again. Indeed, he truly was lasting quite long. His movements were becoming slightly sloppy as the moments went on, and she finally reached up to still him.

"Will…..Will, wait. Stop." Her voice was soft and loving.

He looked up at her. "Am I hurting you?" He breathlessly asked, his eyes set in deep concern. If he hurt her, he would never forgive himself.

"No! No, of course not." She smoothed his damp hair back. "You don't have to rush, though. Calm down." He nodded.

She gently placed her hands on his chest and turned them over so that he was lying on his back with her lying above him. Moving her knees to rest against the blanket beside his hips, she pushed herself to a sitting position, causing him to groan. Understanding her action, he relaxed into the floor and allowed her to move in a gentle rocking motion above him.

He groaned again, his hands gripping the askew blanket at his sides, his fists tightening in rhythm with each sway of her hips. She smiled down at him.

After a few minutes, she mounted the energy to begin moving at a faster pace on top of him. She felt his hips lift in thrusts to meet her and she knew her blacksmith was close to his own release.

The gentle movement soon left altogether as she threw her head back and felt him grab her waist with his long, capable fingers. She swung her hips gracefully, feeling him come closer and closer to the beautiful pleasure she had felt earlier.

He pushed his hips up against her, the muscle in his neck bulging as he cried out. He repeated the thrust again. His hand reached up and took one of her breasts in his hand, making her call his name once again. As if in reply, he grunted her name as well, squeezing her breast as he plowed through her barrier.

She threw her head back in a cry as he moved once more against her. Just a few more thrusts and he would be there.

One…

He called her name.

Two…

She quivered, knowing he was close.

Three…

There was an inch between his behind and the blanket. His body was arched and her head was thrown back. His hand still gripped her breast solidly. Just one more and he would find his release. As his body began to lower to gear for one more thrust, he heard a click.

Ignoring it, he dropped his behind to the blanket and prepared his feet to lift him into her…

"Mister Turner?"

Elizabeth gasped loudly as Will's eyes flew open. He flipped their bodies over so that Elizabeth was flat beneath him. He hoped to God whoever that was didn't see her bare torso twisting up in the hay loft. He would be torn between utter mortification and the need to tear the man limb from limb for seeing his Elizabeth like that.

Elizabeth opened her mouth, but found her fiancé's hand was clamped tightly over her mouth. His lips were pressed tightly together, his eyes large and russet, begging her to be silent.

She nodded only minutely, but found she felt something moving down where Will penetrated her still.

"Mister Turner? Are you here?"

Aside from their heavy breathing (especially in the case of Will), there was a strange feeling inside of her. A pulsating feeling. She looked down to where they were joined. It was highly fascinating and unnervingly arousing to see, but there was nothing that could explain the pulsating.

Her eyes flitted up to Will's face.

"Mister Turner, the door was unlocked. I'm here to ask about my order. Mister Turner?" The man's voice echoed through the smithy.

_My God, I'm not answering! I'm not bloody here! Leave already!_ Will's mind screamed. He could feel an insatiable throbbing in his member. He was so very close to release. Just one more thrust and it would have been over. And now he was lying here, above the sensual, willing body of the woman he loved, buried deep within her, and dying on the brink of his finish.

He blinked rapidly and swallowed, letting his breath out slowly. They could hear the man moving below them. Stupid git.

"Mister Turner!"

His voice was directly below them. They heard him rifle on what Will took to be his desk. Maybe he was writing him a note. Oh God, a whole note.

Elizabeth watched Will's face. She felt entirely sorry for him. Here he was, so close to actually finding his release, and it was cut short by a patron. Didn't Will put a note on the door? Did this man read?

And then she realized exactly what the pulsating was within her. She knew just how incredibly close he truly was. Just one more moment and he would have been finished. The thought that Will was suffering so terribly while that man seemingly wrote a novel suddenly struck the young woman, and she began to giggle.

Will's eyes opened wide and he clamped his hand tighter onto her mouth. She shut her eyes and began to shake in her laughter. Annoyed passed all recognition at the fact that she found the situation so amusing, he gritted his teeth. The uncomfortable feelings teeming through him were starting to get rather painful, but he could still feel her bouncing in laughter beneath him. Tears leaked out of her eyes.

In fact, Will realized that tears were starting in his own eyes.

For a significantly different reason.

He took deep, silent breaths, hearing the scratching of the quill below them. What in God's name was the man writing, exactly? Elizabeth was finally able to control her laughter, but he was unpleasantly surprised to feel something brush against the small of his back.

_Damn her!_

She stroked lazy circles along his skin. He felt chills shoot up his back. Will was so close to being able to calm himself and get rid of the pain and she had to do _this_! The damn devil woman!

He clamped his eyes shut. He couldn't move without making noise. If they were discovered, he would be hanged. He would definitely be hanged.

He shut his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing again. He heard the man set the quill down. Waiting for the sound of the door, the suffering blacksmith was terrified to hear a chair being pulled out and the creak of the legs as a body sat in it.

_Why God? Why?_

Elizabeth looked up at him with mirth in her eyes. Suddenly a dastardly thought occurred to her and the mirth flashed to evilness. Will felt his heart beat quicker. What was she going to do?

He heard the chair push back and the man stand.

Elizabeth let out her breath against Will's hand and wiggled her hips. He whimpered for just a split second, his eyes widening as he opened his mouth silently. He looked up at her for mercy, but she just wiggled some more.

Reaching up with both hands, Elizabeth pressed them between their bodies and pushed them up against his lower belly, just centimeters above where he was sheathed within her. His mouth opened in a strangled but silent cry as his chest heaved. She arched her back against him, and he felt a terribly vicious smirk against his hand.

Finally, they heard the sound of footsteps on the dirty floor of the smithy before front door opened and shut.

Will let out his breath and groaned. "I cannot _believe_ you would stoop that low—"

She cut his sentence off by leaning up on her elbows and slamming her lips into his. Swallowing his words somewhere in between the pain in his groin and Elizabeth's tongue in his mouth, Will began moving against her again.

Elizabeth dropped back down to her back and whispered his name. She raised her hands to her hair and threw her head back as he thrust against her one more time. He let out a strangled cry against her neck before his hips uncontrollably jerked against her, pumping warmth through her in three short spurts.

He dropped against her, splaying his arms out on either side of them. He breathed heavily as she smiled a sultry grin, her hands still in her hair. He looked up at her and rolled over, relishing the cool air against his lower half.

Elizabeth turned over onto her stomach and let out a groan.

Suddenly, a large burst of laughter came from beside her. She opened her eyes and looked to her fiancé, who was lying on his back, laughing wildly. She giggled as well when he moved his eyes to her.

"You are positively the most devilish person I have ever met," he chuckled, his tone very low, sending a chill through Elizabeth's body.

"Ironic, isn't it?"

"What's ironic?"

She smirked, her finger running lightly between the muscles of his stomach.

"That I'm a devil and you're a god."

* * *

(A/N): Out of character or not, that was pretty good, no? Leave a review if you aren't too lazy today. 

Hope you all liked it. If not, well maybe next time.

Shout out to the smutcret society. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE!!!!!!!!

.boot-stealer.


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